Brothers on a Hotel Bed
by FairyTalesAndCastles
Summary: After Lucifer Rising, the brother's take some well needed down time. Ok, the summary sucks but give it a chance. This was something that was missing for me, and probably a few of you guys too. One-shot. NO SLASH!


**I own nothing. I wish I did, but sadly, I don't. **

**Another one-shot. Enjoy :)**

Brothers on a Hotel Bed.

The walk from the car to the room door was deathly quiet. For Dean, the plain, brown door seemed like it was miles away, and with every determined step he took, it was pushed further out of his reach. For Sam, it was the walk of shame, like he was being lead down to the gallows, and with every tentative step he took, the rope was pulled that little bit higher.

Lucifer was free. Released from his brimstone prison after centuries of waiting and suffering. Lucifer burned in his own private hell, yet there was no flame. He burned inside himself, the punishment he was given for committing the highest level of treason. To burn, for all of eternity, he was never supposed to be freed; but seals were broken, sixty six of them to be exact.

The First; "And it is written, that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man spills blood in Hell... as he breaks, so shall it break." The righteous man tried, he tried his damnedest. For 30 years he lasted on the rack, being torn to pieces, cut into ribbons and beaten into a bloody pulp, only for it to start all over again the next horrifying day. He held onto his dreams, even in hell he could dream. About her and if she had found comfort in the arms of another; about him and if he found a way to move on; about that bastard and what he would do to him given the chance. When Dean picked up Alistair's blade and made his first jagged incision, when the woman's blood dripped to the floor, the first seal was broken. And a terrible plan was set in motion.

The Last; "And it is written… that the first demon shall be the last seal." The battle for the final seal had been a bloody one, taking many casualties; one, though still alive, was the most tragic of deaths. He trusted someone different, someone who had given him false hope, someone who had used him for what he was. He lost himself to another, one that wasn't family. When Sam gripped Lilith and ripped her from her host, when her blood trickled through the cracks, the final seal was shattered. And Hell was unleashed on earth.

Both brothers carried the same burden. One that they were both unwilling to share.

The older man wrapped his tired fingers around the door handle and let the weight of his body push it open. The air inside the room was dead and stale, as if death had already passed through. Truth was, the cleaners hadn't been in for a few days. Sam let the door close behind him. The gentle slam echoed around the dank room, it bounced off the walls and back onto them, sending a ringing through Dean's ears - the younger Winchester was too preoccupied with his guilt that he didn't hear anything, nothing except his brother's heavy foot steps.

Dean bent down to sit on the edge of the bed closest to them; he dragged one of his battered, dry hands through his hair and sighed, finally letting out the breath he had been holding for the last 48 hours. Pulling his hand back down, he rolled the pieces of dirt and dry blood between his fingers before letting it fall to the floor. The hunter was tired, and he was scared, scared way more than he would ever care to admit. Dean let the exhaustion take over him and drag him down to the bed. The swirls that were engraved on the dull ceiling caught his emerald eyes. The same eyes that used to sparkle and burn for the fight, but now were just as dull and lifeless as the swirly ceiling above him.

Sam pulled the jacket from around his back and draped it over one of the two chairs in the tuck-away kitchen. He debated sitting down, God knows he needed to, but he was afraid that it was the opening that big brother was waiting for. Sam couldn't deal with Dean coming down on him now, not yet, not while he was feeling the way he did. He needed some time to think, some time to figure out what could make this car crash of a situation better and more importantly, what he was going to say to the man that was currently lay on the bed just 3 foot away from him, with his eyes closed. Was he sleeping? The younger Winchester craned his neck to get a better view of his face. It was hard and knotted, big brother wasn't sleeping. Sam pulled out the chair and sat down; letting his long legs stretch out under the table. He wasn't going to get the break that he needed, not tonight. May as well get it over with.

"Do you remember the time I taught you how to ride a bike Sam?" Dean's voice was clear and steady. Sam turned to look at him, his brow furrowed, confused as to what Dean was getting at. He knew he had been waiting for him to settle down, but he wasn't expecting him to say something like that; he was expecting an assault of, how could you, what were you thinking and I told you so, not necessarily in that order. Before little brother could answer, Dean continued as if he was just talking aloud.

"It was May 3rd 1988, the day after your 5th birthday. I wanted to have the bike in time for your actual birthday but that Lawson kid decided to pull it inside his room the night before. Only damn night he did…" he huffed and shook his head from side to side, "That morning when you woke up and found it waiting at the end of the bed, your face man – it was a picture. Like you'd never seen one before or somethin'" he chuckled lightly, "When I wished you a happy birthday, you looked at like you didn't even get it, like you had forgotten your own birthday. That look broke my heart Sammy, and I swore to myself that I'd never see it again."

Sam was confused right now, confused as to why his brother was talking like this and not biting his head off. Was Dean suffering from some sort of temporary insanity while his brain processed what had happened over the last two days? Maybe…

The younger hunter rose from his seat and made his way to the edge of the bed, next to his brother. He sat down carefully, not settling incase Dean showed some sign of not wanting him so close.

"I loved that bike…" Sam spoke softly, allowing his thoughts to drift for a minute, to a place a lot happier than the present. A thoughtful smile tugged the corners of his dry lips, causing them to crack and break. He ignored the pain and concentrated on the warmth radiating from both his memories and his heart. How could he be as evil as everyone thinks he is when he could still have moments like this, when he could still feel unconditional love for his brother?

Both of the Winchester men fell silent, suffocated in their younger years. A time that was much more simple for them; all they had to worry about was when their Dad was going to get home. Well, that was all Sam worried about; even at such a young age, Dean still worried over the safety of his younger brother. He still wanted to give him a decent childhood, even if it did mean him stealing another kid's bike.

Sam didn't know he was moving until his head touched the mattress. Like Dean, he was tired, he just wanted to rest. He found himself listening to the sound of his brother's breathing. It wasn't uneven or sallow; it was clean and deep. Slowly, Sam turned his head to the left, to look at Dean one last time before closing his eyes; just in case he wasn't there when he opened them again. If Dean did leave, after what he had done to him, Sam wouldn't blame him. Trusting a demon over his own flesh and blood, thinking back on it, he couldn't bring himself to believe that he had. What was he thinking? His thoughts were washed away by scarlet river; something he quickly realised wasn't what he thought.

Blood. Demon blood. How could he?

Sam turned his head back, banishing the image with his movement. He let his eyes fall closed, hoping the red wouldn't come back – it didn't. Instead, his thoughts were filled of his brother, laughing, joking and smiling, something he hadn't seen Dean do in months. He yearned to get that back, somehow, he would. They just needed time.

"But I did." Dean's voice brought his attention back and his hazel eyes opened automatically with the sound. "The other night, when I bust into the convent, you looked at me like you did that bike. Like I didn't belong. Like you had no idea why I was there. That hurt; more than any of the things you've done over the past months. I'm your big brother Sammy; I'm supposed to be there whenever you need me, whenever you don't. I'm supposed to take care of you, look out for you and make sure you're safe. I guess I messed up there huh?" Dean snorted sourly and listened to Sam sigh heavily next to him. "What I'm trying to say Sam, is that; no matter what, you're my little brother and I love you."

Dean pulled his feet up from the floor and turned his back to his brother, curling his legs behind him, boots still on his feet ready to go if need be. Sam mirrored him, bringing his own feet up and turning on his side.

There they were, brother's lay side by side, on a hotel bed. Yet there were miles between them. Sam was willing to walk those miles, and Dean was willing to wait.

"I love you too, big brother." The first step; Sam had started to move forward.

Dean smiled softly and found himself turning over again. He opened his eyes and was greeted with a mass of shaggy brown hair. He smiled again as he settled a hand on Sam's shoulder. What's the harm in moving a little closer from where he waited?

To Dean, it was one less step little brother would have to take to get to him.


End file.
